


Coyote and the Man Who Moved Metal

by wanderingflame



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Coyotes, Crows & Ravens, Goddesses, Gods, Legends, M/M, Revenge, native american folklore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 20:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingflame/pseuds/wanderingflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coyote has not seen a traveler in more years than he can count, let alone one as unusual as this man who can move metal. The temptation to test the stranger's spirit is too much to pass up.</p><p>Erik just wants to cross the desert and confront the man he's spent years hunting. He never imagined it would be this difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the X-Men Tales challenge on LJ, this is inspired by the Native American legends of Coyote, but set in modern day. Raven's incarnation is inspired by Alaskan Inuit folklore, not the Native American Crow/Raven figure. There is a touch of American Gods thrown in, in the sense that the knowledge of and belief in a deity are what keep them around, even as the world changes. As that fades, so do the gods.
> 
> As always, I owe thanks to [everbright](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Everbright/pseuds/Everbright) for being my beta (on especially short notice, this time!)

Coyote had wandered many years and had many adventures, but now he had grown tired. Every year, his brothers and sisters grew fewer; some abandoned the old ways, some simply passed from this world to the next. He often wondered if he should follow the footsteps of the Eldest and abandon this world; after all, it had all but abandoned him. Countless seasons passed and though Coyote had spent most of his years wandering alone, he ached for a return to days when he could race alongside Brother Wolf, or visit with his friends Brown Bear and Buffalo. 

Raven's presence helped some, though these last few years he watched her become more and more weary of their life in the desert. She had come from another land, traveling far from the north where a blanket of white covered everything nearly year-round. She, too, knew the pain of being forgotten by one's people. Eventually, she had drifted from her home and traveled south along an unseen path until she came upon him. In many ways, she reminded him of Brother Crow, who left long ago. Coyote and Raven shared their knowledge and tales and grew stronger for a time. There is strength in knowledge and the power of belief, but now the moon was waning and twilight beckoned. The world was moving on and the old gods, those who still lingered, grew fewer each day. Soon, they would no longer have the choice to stay.

A flash of black and the rustle of feathers caught his attention and drew him from his somber thoughts. He raised a hand against the sun, grinning as Raven circled above him for a moment before plummeting. With perfect grace, she alighted on the hard-packed earth with bare, now-human, feet and approached his perch. 

She was as lovely as the day he first met her, though lately she had taken to swimming in the same waters as the blue bird, giving her skin the hue of the sky above. As she sat beside him, Coyote was surprised to see her eyes bright with mischief and excitement. There had been little to excite either of them for some time. 

“Something's coming,” she said. 

Long ago, the winds would have brought Coyote such news but they no longer spoke as they once had. For a moment, Coyote felt the weight of his long years press down on him. Time and the modern age had taken many of his friends, and being reminded of that was never pleasant. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Raven nudged him with her shoulder to draw him back to the present, then pointed out across the land. 

A dust cloud approached, trailing behind a Jeep that was following a long-forgotten trail through the desert. If Coyote was right about the path it was taking, the driver would soon change directions and pass in front of them, though still a good distance away. After another minute of silent observation, the Jeep did just that. Coyote turned to look towards the vehicle's destination, knowing what lay out there without needing to see it. 

“How long have you followed him?” he asked, but Raven's answer was a shrug. Distance meant little to one who had traveled as far as she had. Coyote contemplated the Jeep a moment more and then slowly rose to his feet. He stretched, aware that Raven was watching him, and finally turned to meet her gaze. Whatever she saw in his face must have pleased her, for she jumped to her feet with a grin. 

“You've sat on these rocks so long, Elder Brother, I thought you might become one yourself.” 

Without giving him a chance to reply, she took to the sky in a great rush of sound, as if hundreds of wings were flapping at once. Amidst it, he heard cawing, which he took to be her laughter; he grinned as her shadow passed over him. A great, dark shape glided out over the barren land, heading for the dust cloud. A moment later, Coyote followed.


	2. Chapter 2

1

The Jeep Erik had arranged to pick up as he left Colorado and entered New Mexico had not come with air conditioning. He hadn't thought to ask for it, nor was he in a position to be picky. He'd wanted something that wasn't too expensive and that didn't require any paperwork or questions asked. As long as it met those conditions and got him to where he needed, he could put up with any faults. Thankfully, there was little humidity, so the air whipping around the cabin from the half-open windows helped dry most of his sweat.

He glanced at the GPS unit lying on the seat beside him before returning his attention to the road, if it could even be called that. It was little more than a winding path between rocks and small shrubs. There was a different road that led to where he was going—not paved but at least more traveled—but Erik had chosen this route on purpose. He wanted to come at his enemy from where he least expected it; thus, the barren desert. Erik planned on stopping once dusk set in—it would be harder to see objects in his path even with headlights—but he knew that if he could make good progress while the sun was up, he could probably be at his destination by the end of the next day.

A shadow passed over the hood, large enough to cause Erik to frown, but before he could lean forward to look for the cause, something darted out in front of the vehicle. The dog—wolf?—was little more than a blur but Erik reacted on instinct, jerking the wheel to the left with a white-knuckle grip. He saw his mistake too late and spun the wheel back in a futile gesture. Metal screeched as the rocks he'd turned into gouged the underside of the vehicle. The Jeep lurched, tilting sideways as the back tire rode over the rocks; Erik settled it back on all four wheels with an irritated flex of his power. He let the car coast to a stop, listening to the unpleasant rattle under the hood before finally switching it off with a curse and climbing out.

He flung up the blisteringly hot hood with a gesture, not worried about witnesses out here. From above, everything looked fine but when he crouched to look underneath the engine, he saw a rapidly growing pool of liquid soaking the ground. The undercarriage was torn and the back axel was bent, although it was still in one piece; he was lucky the tire hadn't popped. While the metal itself could be fixed, there was no way to replace the lost fluids.

Briefly, Erik considered patching everything up and trying to force the car along by his will alone. It was possible, well within the limits of his ability, but the mere thought had a headache prickling the edge of his mind.

With a sigh, he got to his feet and moved around to the cabin to collect his gear. A high, yipping call caused him to scan his surroundings, but there was no sign of anything that could have made the noise. The animal that had caused the accident was also mysteriously absent. Pulling on a hat to shield his eyes from the sun, Erik slung his backpack on, gave the Jeep one last disgusted look, and then set off in the direction indicated by the GPS.

He hadn't planned for this exact dilemma, but he had packed enough food and water for a longer return trip; even with this quite literal bump in the road, he thought he would be all right. He'd known all along that at least part of the journey would be on foot—otherwise, the dust kicked up from the Jeep would've given him away easily—but it still annoyed him that now it would take twice as long to even get there.

As he walked, he thought of how strange it was to be so far from civilization. The constant thrum of metal was reduced to the mere murmur of his knife, canteens, and other small pieces of equipment. The knife itself was a comforting presence, his only companion since he first set out on this journey for revenge. Silent, dispassionate, it would bear final witness to Sebastian Shaw's end. Erik wondered what he would do with it afterward, when it had served its final purpose, but as with most thoughts of “after”, he pushed them aside in order to consider his plans for “now”.

Somewhere out here in the desert was a casino, that had once languished bankrupt and deteriorating under the sun, wind and rain. According to the last man Erik had interrogated—the one who'd given him Shaw's whereabouts—Shaw had taken over the casino and restored it to its former glory as a glittering palace of sin. The only problem: it was an extremely exclusive club. Going through the front door was immediately ruled out. Instead, Erik hoped to get across the desert unseen, find a way to infiltrate the casino, and then it was only a matter of locating Shaw within the building. With his ability to manipulate metal, Erik doubted any of Shaw's security measures would pose much of a problem. He just had to get there.

By the time the sun was sinking into the west, he was glad to call an end to the day. He'd spent years training and exercising until his body was at its peak in fitness, but walking for hours on end was far different than scaling a building or fighting a man. His feet were sore—despite the expensive hiking boots he'd purchased before the trip—his leg muscles ached, and his hips felt as if the cushioning fluid in the joints had been worn away, leaving the bones to grind against each other like a mortar and pestle. Still, he felt some satisfaction when he checked the GPS and saw the progress he'd made, even after losing the Jeep. If he could maintain his pace, he could probably reach his destination in two days.

Before he lost all daylight, Erik set up his tent and then dug a hole a few feet away to build a small fire in. He was grateful now that he hadn't tried to bring a portable stove. It would have been no problem with a vehicle, but even with his control over metal objects, it would have been a pain to lug with him. Once the fire was burning steadily, he set one of the silver-foil bags of army-grade rations to cook and then allowed himself to take in his surroundings.

New Mexico's desert was more colorful than he'd expected, the sand and clay in the ground making the earth show brown, red and yellow in places. In the dying light of the day, the colors caught the last rays of the sun and brightened in a breathtaking display. The surrounding land almost seemed to catch fire, a blaze that slowly enveloped the sky, devouring the blue until only red-gold remained. That, in turn, gave way to an inky blackness, but as Erik's eyes adjusted, he saw more stars above than he thought he had ever seen in his life.

It was beautiful but the vastness of it sent a pang through Erik, the grand vista only serving to remind him how alone he was out here. He tried to ignore the feeling and focused instead on cleaning up the remains of his dinner before dampening the fire and retiring to his tent.

He woke during the night with the immediate sense that something was wrong. The light coming through his tent wall was brighter than a banked fire should have been. Moving silently and slowly, Erik slipped free of his sleeping bag, took his knife from the pack beside him, and carefully began to unzip the front flap. He didn't sense anything metal beyond the tent walls, so he assumed his weapon would give him the advantage.

He was easing the flap open when he caught sight of his visitor and froze. Between the light from the flickering fire and the moon above, the coyote sitting just beyond the flames was clearly illuminated. It was much larger than he would have expected. Erik was no expert on wildlife, but he was relatively certain coyotes were smaller than their wolf cousins. This one was easily sixty pounds or more, sitting tall and staring straight at Erik.

It was also unusually still as it watched him. He expected the occasional twitch, for the ears to flick as they heard something out in the night or the lips to curl back in a snarl, but it simply watched him in silence, as if made of stone. Firelight danced in the creature's eyes, along with an eerie intelligence. Instead of being golden, as he'd expect, the irises were darker, almost...blue?

Erik blinked but couldn't shake the assertion that this animal's eyes were blue. Not the striking, pale shade of some dog breeds, but a vibrant blue that was darkened by the low light, but the likes of which he'd only ever seen in humans.

 _It's a trick of the light_ , he told himself sharply. _That's the only explanation_.

Just as Erik was wondering how best to break this stalemate, sudden movement to his right startled him and he struck without thinking. Firelight flashed off his knife as it hit its mark, leaving Erik staring dumbfounded at the sandy-colored hare he'd killed. It had chosen the wrong moment to leave the safety of its shrub and wouldn't make that mistake again. He called the knife back to him a second later and looked up but only caught the flash of a white tail disappearing into the darkness. A barking cry drifted back to him as the coyote retreated. It was the same sound he'd heard after the accident with the Jeep; it sounded like laughter.

Swearing under his breath, still slightly shaken by the strange encounter, Erik turned his attention to skinning and cleaning the unfortunate hare. He knew better than to let food go to waste, especially now that his trip would take longer than he'd planned. He also doubted he would be able to fall asleep easily after this.

When dawn finally pried at the sky with pink fingers, it found Erik dozing fitfully, wary of the coyote's return. He waited until just the tip of the sun had made an appearance on the horizon, sending a lance of light against the wall of his tent, and then grudgingly got up. The air was cool now from the temperature having dropped during the night, but a different kind of chill went down his spine as he looked at the remains of his fire.

Only a few hours ago, after cleaning the rabbit, he'd taken what he didn't want out into the desert and tossed it for the scavengers to find. Then, finding his way back by the call of his knife, he'd wrapped the hare in the foil bag leftover from dinner and buried that in the fire. By morning, he'd expected it would be cooked enough to eat. The leftovers he would leave for some wandering creature to clean up.

Only now, as he looked out of his tent, he saw the rabbit was gone. The remains of his fire were not scattered as if an animal had dug through them to get to the food. Instead, they were settled into the hole he'd dug as if the bundle had been carefully extracted, or had never been there at all.

Acting on instinct, Erik reached for his backpack and yanked the zippers open, discovering what he'd already begun to suspect: the remaining rations were missing.

If an animal had found come across his campsite during the night, it was unlikely—but not impossible—that it could've dug the hare free of the fire without waking Erik. But an animal that could sneak into his tent, unzip his backpack, retrieve the rations, and then zip the bag up again—all while Erik slept a foot away—wasn't an animal at all. Erik scowled as he scanned the area, one hand on his knife, but the culprit was long gone.

After a few minutes of frustrated contemplation, he set the weapon aside and dug deeper into the bag, relieved to find his canteens were still there. If someone had taken his food but left him water, they weren't trying to kill him outright. They were merely sending a warning: leave while you can. Erik's stomach chose that moment to rumble quietly, but his mouth hardened into a thin, determined line.

 _Not now_ , he thought. _Not when I'm this close_.

Quickly and efficiently, he cleaned up his camp site, packed up his tent, and scooped dirt into the hole he'd dug, though the burnt wood seemed cool to the touch. He slathered on sunscreen, took a swallow of water, and then began walking.

By mid-day, the growling of his stomach had become near-constant and his legs and feet were protesting vocally, so Erik allowed himself a short break after coming across a large slab of rock that cast enough shade for him to huddle in. He looked through his bag one more time, but it was only to confirm that all the food—even the granola bars he'd tossed in as a last-minute thought—were gone. Whoever had stolen from him had been very thorough.

As he sipped some water, aware of how limited it was, he squinted out into the desert. He'd half-hoped to startle another rabbit out into the open, but aside from the occasional bug, wildlife had been scarce. Even as he considered this, a sharp cry pierced the stillness and a hawk dove down to snatch something off the ground, carrying it away with several strong beats of its wings. Erik had a moment to debate trying to take it down with the knife, but he was distracted from the idea by thoughts of the coyote the night before. He had never heard of them coming up to a human like that. He'd kept an eye out as he walked but there was no sign of it tailing him, and no evidence to explain why it had approached him in the first place.

 _It was a fluke, nothing more_ , he thought. _It's probably moved on to easier prey by now_. The words should have been reassuring but Erik couldn't quite shake the unease the encounter had left with him. It lingered throughout the exhausting day, despite his best attempts to turn his thoughts elsewhere, but thankfully didn't last past sunset. Weary from the walking and lack of food, Erik was asleep as soon as he'd crawled into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes.

When he awoke in the middle of the night, he found not a coyote waiting by his fire, but a man.


	3. Chapter 3

2

Because the light coming through his tent wall was as bright as the night before, Erik didn't hesitate to sit up and unzip the flap. The sight of a human, the outline distinctly different from a strangely curious coyote, had Erik reaching for his knife but not only did it fail to heed his call, he couldn't sense it _anywhere_. Pushing aside the tangled mix of panic and fury that came on the heels of that realization, he reached instead for any metal on the stranger...only to discover there was none. Not a single scrap of anything metallic, not even a spare coin. 

Erik realized how strange it must look to be swinging his hand around for no reason, and let his arm drop to his side as he slowly climbed out of the tent. He may not have his knife but the other man was also weaponless. Even unarmed, Erik was a force to be reckoned with, and it would be better to face the threat out in the open where he'd have plenty of room to move. He cautiously sat down opposite the other man, keeping the fire between them. 

His visitor was a few years younger than Erik, possibly in his early 30s. He was Native American, his dark hair falling around his shoulders. His clothes made it seem like he'd stepped out of the past: tan leggings that laced up the side and a breechcloth of the same material. Both appeared handmade, thus explaining the lack of zipper and buttons. He was barefoot and sat cross-legged across the fire in almost the exact same position as the coyote. 

When Erik met the other man's gaze, a chill swept through him. Blue eyes, bright in the firelight, gazed calmly back at him. The same eyes that had been so eerie the night before when present in an animal's face. Erik forced himself to remain calm, resting his hands on his knees to mirror the stranger. 

“You are trespassing,” the other man said. His voice was mild with politeness and there was even the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. 

“I'm sorry,” Erik replied. “I didn't realize this was privately-owned land.” According to his research, it wasn't. 

“It's not,” the man said, echoing Erik's thoughts. “It belongs to many, but not to you. You should turn back.” 

Erik's temper uncoiled like a rattlesnake, not yet striking but nevertheless awake. 

“I'm looking for someone,” he said, aware that his hands had curled into fists. “I won't stop until I've found him, and I won't let anyone stand in my way.” Whoever this fool was—and whatever he'd done with Erik's knife—he wasn't going to chase Erik off by being cryptic. The other man smiled in the face of Erik's scowl. 

“You should think on my warning.” 

Before Erik could argue, the man leaned forward and blew into the fire. The flames leaped up, as if gasoline has been thrown on them, and Erik scrambled back with a yell of surprise. He blinked several times, trying to rid himself of the afterimages burned into his vision as he braced himself for an attack, but when his vision cleared, the stranger was gone and the fire was banked again, barely crackling. 

Was his mind playing tricks on him? The fire, as it was now, couldn't have been roaring just moments ago, and yet he couldn't deny he'd felt the heat on his skin. Erik put a hand to his stomach as it twisted unhappily. He'd been hungry many times in his life, half-starved even, but never to the point where he'd hallucinated. It had only been one day without food, there was no way that could be the cause. 

He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the grit of sweat and scrape of stubble. 

_Either I've gone mad_ , he thought, _or I've got to admit this man and his strange coyote are real_. Neither option seemed ideal. After another moment of staring at the fire, he crawled back into his tent where he lay awake for hours, twitching at every rustle or whisper of sound. Although he didn't remember falling asleep, when he awoke, he found his knife in his hand. The relief of this discovery was later shattered when he opened his bag and found his canteens were gone. 

Pressing on without food was a gamble, but one he'd been willing to make. Erik had survived years of hunger when he was young; at least there had always been always the chance of startling some small animal out into the open yesterday. He would have eaten it raw, if it came down to it. 

A lack of water, though, was far more serious, especially in his already weakened state. It also drove home the quiet threat that had been underlying the stranger's words. 

_“You should think on my warning.”_

He wondered if he'd even survive a trip back to civilization with both his food and water missing. A part of Erik countered that thought by pointing out if he were to turn back, he might find his supplies mysteriously restored. 

He stared at the display on the GPS and then out across the desert. He was so temptingly close. Years of preparation and hunting, and now his goal was a day's walk away. But that walk had to be made without food or water and under the unrelenting sun. Erik glanced down at his arms and legs where the skin was bright red, despite the sunblock he'd been using. His face felt tight and warm, even in the shade his tent cast. He put the GPS away and climbed out of the tent. 

There was no part of him that didn't ache, even his head was throbbing, but Erik forced himself to move. He nearly left the tent behind, the thought of carrying it was almost too much when he already felt so weak, but at the last minute he decided he'd drag it with his power if he had to. He would need the shade it offered, if nothing else. 

When the campsite was cleaned up, he set off towards the not-yet-visible casino. He wasn't giving in yet, not when he'd come this far. 

~~

Hours passed. Every step was exhausting. Erik looked for cacti nearby, not wanting to stray too far off his path, but it was as if they'd all been moved to some other part of the state. He felt overheated and nauseous and his head throbbed with each beat of his pulse. He licked his lips at one point and thought he tasted blood. The moisture on his cracked skin was a relief, if only for a moment. When he eventually stopped for a rest, he was too afraid to check the GPS and see how little he'd traveled. It was impossible to ignore how much slower his pace was today than it had been when he first started out. 

He lay down in the shadow of some rocks— _Just for a moment_ , he thought—only to sit up hours later, disoriented by the position of the sun in the sky. He'd thought it had been right overhead, but now it hung low, basking everything in orange. His confusion was not helped by the woman in blue watching him. 

No, not _in_ blue, he realized. She _was_ blue. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes, but there was no change in her appearance. 

She sat just a few feet away in the dirt with her legs tucked to one side. Her head was cocked slightly and her face—for all that its color was startling—was lovely, her expression one of mild curiosity. She was wearing a poncho-like shirt and long skirt, both of the same material—deerskin, perhaps?—as the stranger's leggings and breechcloth. A long black feather was woven into her dark hair so seamlessly, it looked to be a part of it. Her eyes were thankfully not the same piercing blue as his last two visitors. Instead, they were a bright gold that glowed in the light of the setting sun. 

They stared at each other, Erik in mute disbelief and the woman with an air of amusement. Finally, she rose to her feet and approached him, uncaring of the rough ground beneath her bare feet. To Erik's dismay, he barely had the strength to stay upright, let alone move away to keep distance between them. As she knelt beside him, he found himself still staring, wondering if the hue of her skin was from some kind of paint. It covered her so seamlessly that even her scalp seemed stained with it. 

“You're blue,” he said, his tongue feeling like sandpaper in his mouth. She grinned and the flash of white teeth was striking. 

“Coyote is not the only one to learn the secret of the blue bird,” she said. “But I was not so foolish as to lose that gift so soon after finding it.” 

She held something out to him and his brain, slowed by exhaustion, took another moment to process what it was seeing. It was a waterskin, old-fashioned and worn by time, but somehow befitting her attire. The weight of his thirst was instantly crushing—he could almost smell the water—but still he hesitated. 

“You'll need this if you intend to go on,” the woman said. 

“You're not going to stop me?” Erik rasped. He had assumed she was with the other one. Their clothes and manner seemed the same. She shrugged and the movement caused the feather to sway, the vane glinting in the light. 

“It's not my land,” she said simply. “It has been a home to me for many years, but I cannot say who may come and go. Besides, I think there is something of him in you. You're here to cause trouble, are you not?” She grinned again, but Erik was unsure of how to answer. He had no quarrel with these people, or at least he hadn't until his food and water had been taken, but he could forgive that if he was allowed to keep going unhindered. This woman was not only offering help by giving Erik water, but also seemed to be giving him permission to continue his journey. 

He wavered another second, wary of trusting her when she clearly knew the one who was behind all his bad luck, but then he swallowed and felt his throat constrict. He gave in and reached for the waterskin, trying not to read into the way her smile widened. 

God, it was sweet and impossibly cool. Erik was so desperate for the relief the water brought, he'd already taken several large swallows before noticing the faint herbal taste in his mouth. Even then, it was a struggle to move the neck of the bottle away from his lips, every fiber of his being protesting the decision. 

“What..what—”

“Something to help you regain your strength,” she said, and caught the waterskin as it dropped from his tingling fingers. Lethargy swept through him, faster than should be possible, and though he fought the effects, it was futile. He closed his eyes and sprawled backwards, feeling weariness lapping at his consciousness. The last thing he knew was the touch of cool lips against his brow and then he was lost in a dream of snow, endless snow for miles, and stinging winds that carried him high above a frozen, lonely land. 

~~

When Erik next opened his eyes, an endless sea of stars blanketed the sky. The dream lingered, along with the sound of beating wings and a cawing that echoed across the frozen land. It was strange to dream of snow while in the desert. Stranger still was how the chill of the dream had stayed with him, leaving him pleasantly cool and refreshed. He lay where he was, taking stock of how his body felt. 

There was no lingering sluggishness or other ill-effect from whatever drug had been in the water. Instead, his mind felt clear and his body rested. He licked his lips and found them no drier than when he'd started this journey. When he sat up, his muscles only protested that he had napped on hard ground, instead of the bone-deep ache of walking for miles without end. 

A small fire was burning merrily several feet from where he lay, and beside it sat the man from the night before. Somehow, Erik was unsurprised. This whole trip had become as surreal as his dream of flying through the snow. He half-thought that in reality he might be collapsed beside some bush, cooking under the noonday sun, trapped in a fever dream from a poisonous snake he never saw strike. 

The man by the fire turned to look over his shoulder at Erik. His eyes, lit only by the moon, were impossibly blue. 

“You're persistent,” he said, and Erik thought there was a hint of a smile on his lips. That one simple comment confirmed Erik's suspicions that this was the person responsible for all his trouble. 

“If you really don't want me to continue, why not just kill me while I slept?” Erik asked, wondering if he would get an answer. 

“Little Sister would never forgive me if I wasted her medicine.” Silence fell between them as Erik waited for him to elaborate. Instead, the man said, “You must be hungry.” 

As if the words had lifted a veil from Erik's senses, he suddenly found himself ravenous, the scent of something cooking making his mouth water. He hesitated another moment, before getting to his feet and walking around the man, intending on sitting on the other side of the fire. As he passed the stranger, the other man held something out to him; it was Erik's knife. The man grinned openly, unabashedly mischievous, but Erik refrained from commenting as he accepted the item he hadn't even sensed until it was within sight. A brief stretch of his power told him the remaining items in his backpack were all accounted for. 

As Erik sat back down, he saw one of the foil bags had been propped up beside the fire, open and steaming with a spoon sitting innocently beside it. _His_ rations, _his_ spoon. Erik swallowed against the anger welling up inside him and instead turned his attention to the food. 

The stew was still hot but he couldn't wait for it to cool, so he sucked in air as he ate to relieve his burning tongue. It was delicious, probably in part because of his hunger; before he'd realized it, he'd devoured the entire bag. The stranger leaned forward to hold out a canteen—one of Erik's, of course—and Erik only stared at it for a moment, before exhaling in a snort. This was all so ridiculous, it was difficult to summon the fury he thought better suited this scene. Here was his tormentor, gleefully giving back all that he'd stolen. The other man must have guessed his thoughts, because his grin never wavered. Erik finally stretched forward to take the canteen. The water was a blessing after the too-hot meal and he was grateful not to taste anything but the flat, mildly metallic water he'd grown used to. 

After replacing the cap on the canteen, Erik set it beside him, keeping a light thread of his power on it as he'd been doing with his life. He'd be damned if he let his gear vanish again. The stranger was leaning back on his hands, face lifted to the sky. Firelight danced with shadows across the column of his throat and chest. This man portrayed himself as harmless, but the definition in his arms suggested he could handle himself well in a fight. 

“You are not of the People.” 

The comment snapped Erik's attention back up to those mysterious eyes but the words confused him. He couldn't possibly think Erik was of Native American descent? There was a knowing glint in the other man's eyes that made Erik wary. 

“Neither are you,” he replied. Whether he looked it or not, the being before him was anything but normal. The man's grin crept back into place. 

“Not quite.” 

Erik thought of the man's disappearing act the night before and how his eyes had looked so much like that coyote's. 

“Are you a shapeshifter?” 

“I am many things, all of which are far older than you can imagine.” The answer was cryptic enough to grate on Erik's nerves, but before he could press for more information, the man continued. “The place you're going: Hellfire Casino. There are others there like you. Is that why you seek it?” 

Others like him? Erik was puzzled until he realized what the man's original comment had meant. Erik wasn't of the People because he wasn't _human_. Somehow, this man knew of Erik's ability to control metal. 

_It wouldn't be that hard to figure out, if he's been watching me since the Jeep_ , he thought sourly. Still, the stranger's tone in relation to the idea was casual, not condemning. And he'd said there were others... Erik's mind spun at the implications. Could they all move metal as he could? Had they been taken in by Shaw under the pretense of “learning” to use their power, only to be tortured in the process? How many were staying in the casino? 

The stranger raised an eyebrow, making Erik realize he'd been lost in thought. He tried to remember the question. 

“I'm looking for a man: Sebastian Shaw, although he has gone by Klaus Schmidt also. When I find him, I plan to kill him.” He threw it out as a challenge, expecting to see shock or maybe wariness in return. Instead, the man only nodded as he looked into the fire. 

“You should get some rest then.” 

For one horrible moment, Erik was torn between fear and fury, certain that he'd been drugged again. It must have shown on his face because the stranger threw back his head and laughed. Erik was transfixed by the sight. The man, skin awash with warm firelight, was beautiful. Then a yipping call rang out, bringing swift change to the stranger and startling Erik from his thoughts. The other man froze, turning to look out into the night with what appeared to be longing in his expression. When he faced Erik again, the cheerful mask had returned.

“Sleep,” the man said. “I will keep watch.” 

Erik wanted to argue, wanted to demand more answers from this person who'd become a thorn in his side for no reason, only to have a change of heart just as inexplicably. However, the effects of whatever the woman had given him were fading. While he didn't feel the pain of traveling by foot as deeply as before, he was still sore and tired. The warm food in his stomach only added to his drowsiness. 

He walked back around the fire to where his backpack lay and decided it was too late to bother with the tent. Instead, he unrolled his sleeping bag on a patch of ground that looked mostly flat before getting in. Although his visitor never turned his head to look at Erik, he still felt the weight of his regard. Erik closed his eyes and thought of the dream of snow but the memory slipped out of reach, leaving him instead in quiet darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two parts in this update, although the second one isn't very long. Huge thanks again to [everbright](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Everbright/pseuds/Everbright) for helping me get this cleaned up!


	4. Interlude

Coyote sat under the stars, watching the fire die down and eventually sputter out. He had not heard the winds speak in so long, he almost forgot to listen for their voices. As dawn began to paint the sky, a breeze curled around him, bringing word of Raven. Coyote smiled until the wind gave him the rest of its news.

She arrived a heartbeat later, landing as a bird and clacking her beak at him, which told him how angry she was. Then in a swirl of black feathers, she stood before him as a human, even lovelier in her fury. 

“Little Sister,” he greeted, but she ignored such pleasantries. 

“You told me that man and his followers were no threat.” 

“I said he wasn't a threat worth fighting alone. Not as I was then, nor as I am now. But I understand now that I should have tried anyway. Brother Wolf would never have allowed things to go this far.” 

“Do you think he'd allow _this_?” she snapped, gesturing at the man who lay sleeping nearby. “I healed him so he could continue his journey, not so you would go with him.” 

“I think Brother Wolf would see some of himself in this man and would understand my decision, even if he did not like it.” It was that shared tenacity—between Brother Wolf and a man not of the People—that led Coyote to follow the stranger this far and put him through such trials. Raven had claimed it was cruel to torture someone for personal amusement—as she saw it—and because Coyote loved her, he said nothing when she interceded to offer her water. As it was, Coyote had watched long enough to have come to his decision. 

_Sebastian Shaw_. Coyote finally had a name for the man he'd allowed to trespass for too long. He should have interceded long ago but fear held him back. Fear that he wasn't strong enough anymore, that being forgotten by so many might mean his immortality had waned, leaving him weak to mortal weapons. So he'd turned a blind eye, tried to ignore what was happening in that corner of his land, but no more. Shaw's very presence spoiled the land and it was clear he had no plans to leave. If ever Coyote had a chance to face him, it was now, when fortune had sent an ally his way. 

Raven's anger wilted, leaving behind a sadness that lay heavy in her golden eyes. 

“Why do this? Why risk so much for so little? We're nearly forgotten now, Elder Brother.” 

“Because I have been here since there was only the land and my brother and sisters upon it. I have watched the People since their creation; I have loved them even as they moved on and forgot my name. But _I_ still remember. This land belongs to them and to me, and so I will reclaim it.” 

“Even if you die trying?” 

“I've died many times before. I'm not afraid of death,” he said. He gave her a broad, fearless grin but she shook her head. 

“You are a foolish coyote. What if you're wrong? What if this is the death you don't return from?” 

The fear in her eyes made his heart ache. As much as he worried for himself, he hated the thought of what she would go through if he failed. He reached up to take her hands and pull her down into his arms. She held onto him fiercely, as if he would vanish at any moment. 

“You should go,” he said quietly. He felt her grip tighten and knew she understood that he wasn't just sending her away from his fire. “I know it's what you want, what you've wanted for some time.” 

He closed his eyes and thought only of the beautiful bird in his arms. She had seemed like a gift, all those years ago when she came upon him and decided to stay. She had eased his loneliness and they'd given each other a reason to linger, at least for a little while. He'd been selfish to keep her by his side even after he knew she was ready to fly on, to let the wind carry her to a new home. 

They said nothing more as the sky grew lighter around them. Coyote knew the man who controlled metal would be rising soon and they would need to part before then, but it was difficult to find the strength to pull away. 

“You should go,” he said at length. She released a shuddering breath against him before sitting back. 

“Wind guide you, foolish coyote,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his forehead. “If you get yourself killed, don't think I won't be back to gloat about it.” He forced himself to smile, as she did, even though they both knew the truth: there was no coming back. When the old gods moved on, they were forgotten completely and no longer had a way back into the world. 

“Wind guide you, Little Sister,” he said. “If you meet my siblings along the way, tell them I haven't forgotten their names.” 

She nodded, eyes bright with unshed tears, then took to the air without another word. Cold wind buffeted Coyote but he watched steadfastly as she climbed higher and higher into the sky, her great wings glittering as the sun crested the horizon. He waited until she disappeared behind a cloud and a moment later, he knew she was truly gone. He was alone again and weary down to his soul because of it. 

_Perhaps when this journey has ended, if I survive what is to come_ , he thought, _I will give up my hold on this world_. He looked down and lifted a glossy black feather from his lap, brushing the edges gently. _Until then, I will not forget your name, Little Sister._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been too long in coming and I apologize to anyone who has been waiting for the resolution. Maybe it's crazy to return to a weird AU story nearly five years later when the fandom has moved on but I just wanted to see it through. Thank you for reading. <3

3

Erik opened his eyes to a cloudless pink sky. He sat up, immediately looking for the stranger. The man sat cross-legged a few feet away, facing the sun on the horizon. He looked over his shoulder at Erik before rising to his feet. As he approached, Erik noticed his clothes had changed. He wore a loose pale blue shirt that electrified the color of his eyes. His leggings had been discarded for more modern-styled pants, though they seemed to be made of similar material. As he crouched beside the remains of the fire, his hair fell forward and a long black feather swung into view. It reminded Erik of the blue-skinned woman, though there was no other sign of her.

“If we leave now, we will reach Hellfire by sunset,” the stranger said.

Erik blinked. “We?”

“We share a goal: the removal of Shaw from this land. It would be wise of you to accept my help, considering whose land you travel upon.” The man grinned, shameless.

Erik considered arguing. This was the person who had nearly killed him by depriving him of resources. Could he be trusted? The other man's lips curved wider as if he shared Erik's thoughts.

“Fine,” Erik said, climbing out of his sleeping bag. “Just don't get in my way when we find Shaw.”

The man spread his hands, though it was unclear if he was agreeing or not. Erik dug through his backpack and found the granola bars had been returned. He studiously ignored the cause of their disappearance as he unwrapped and ate one.

“What do they call you, Man Who Moves Metal?”

“Erik.” He eyed the stranger. “What should I call you?”

“You may have guessed my name already, but if you would prefer something more conventional, you may call me Charles. It is a name I have taken when it suited me.”

“Charles,” Erik said, testing the name.

Charles watched him, his eyes bright with amusement. Erik realized this was the first time he'd seen the man in full light. He was more attractive than prior glimpses in firelight had revealed. The knowing smirk was tiresome, though. Erik turned away to dig clean clothes out of his pack. He would sweat again before the day was done but he'd worn these clothes two days straight. At this rate, Shaw would smell him coming a mile away.

He could feel Charles' gaze on him but refused to be unnerved by it. He stripped his shirt off and used a meager amount of water to turn it into a rag he could use to scrub some of the grime off. He stripped the rest of his clothes with brisk efficiency, then pulled on clean items. As he crouched to lace his boots, he glanced at Charles. The other man was looking away, showing no sign of how much he'd seen.

Not that it mattered. _Tonight, I will kill Sebastian Shaw_. That was all he needed to focus on now.

He stood, looking down at his bag. Would there even be a return trip to make it worth dragging along? _Bring it_ , came a voice in his head. _You need the water._

Erik shouldered the bag on and turned to Charles, noticing with surprise that the other man was shorter. His presence made him feel more imposing. Charles nodded and turned to lead the way. Strapped to his back were two sheaths with white hilts sticking out. Erik stretched out with his power but felt nothing.

“Bone,” Charles said, looking over his shoulder. Then his lips curled as he added, “Try to keep up.”

Initially, he set off at a loping pace that strained Erik's stamina, but he eventually slowed. Even at a jog, Erik was winded when the sun sank towards the horizon and they reached their destination. The lights of the casino blazed upward from the hollowed out depression it sat in. The ground surrounding the site sloped up as they neared, and Erik followed Charles' example by dropping to a crouch to approach the edge.

The casino was hideously gaudy against the natural beauty of their surroundings, a three story block of black stone, lit up by spotlights and decorated with flashing lights. “Hellfire Casino” was scrawled in red neon above the entrance and flames flared on either side of the doors. A few vehicles sat in a large cleared out area that Erik assumed was the parking lot. They settled down to watch the guard activity.

Men stood on either side of the jets of fire at the entrance and pairs patrolled the exterior of the building. Erik counted at least six and while he couldn't see their weapons, he felt them. He'd hoped for an element of surprise, but once he went over the edge they hid behind, he'd be in plain sight.

 _Still, the guards will be easy to handle, given how much metal they carry_.

He slid his backpack off and eyed the patrols, waiting for the right moment. Charles grabbed his wrist.

“We wait for nightfall,” he said.

Erik frowned. “Why? We're here now. Why wait longer?”

Charles let go and turned away, looking down at the casino. Erik waited for an answer before realizing he wouldn't get one. Stifling the urge to throttle the man, he instead turned his attention to the casino. After another minute of staring, his patience snapped.

As he rose to climb over the edge, Charles hit him in the back of the knee. Unbalanced, Erik swung his arms in an attempt to recover but Charles attacked again, grabbing his shoulder and shoving down. Erik landed hard, his head bouncing off the ground as he skid down the slope away from the edge. Stunned by the blow, he tried to get up but then Charles dropped onto him. Erik froze as something cool touched his neck.

Charles had him pinned, seated on Erik's hips with one arm across his chest. In his other hand, he held one of the bone knives. Erik could just barely see the hilt at the edge of his vision. Instinctively, he reached out with his power before being reminded he couldn't control this weapon. He was at Charles' mercy.

The man in question leaned forward, his hair falling like a curtain around them. It would have been intimate if not for the cold light in his blue eyes.

“You let your anger blind you. When darkness falls, we will have the advantage. In the dark, we will be unseen. When their machines start up, we will be unheard. Given that I have allowed you to come this far, I will not allow you to jeopardize everything now with your impatience.”

The slope he lay on forced the blood to rush to Erik's head, increasing the pounding in his temples. Charles held the blade with unflinching stillness and Erik suspected any argument would earn himself a slit throat. He swallowed, his mouth dry.

“All right.” His voice was no more than a rasp.

Charles tilted his head, considering Erik a moment more before he sat up. He arched his back to sheath the blade and the image, combined with his weight on Erik's hips, sent a flash of heat through Erik. He shoved the feeling down, trying instead to calm the pounding of his heart.

When Charles rose and stepped away, Erik rolled over and tried to get to his feet but a wave of dizziness slowed him. He was surprised by a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“Eat something,” Charles said. “It won't be long.”

It felt like an eternity of waiting to Erik. He ate two granola bars without tasting either. Crouched on the hill, he watched the parking area fill with cars as guests arrived. Gradually, the noise inside the building grew until it spilled out into the quiet desert air.

Erik exchanged his shirt for a black polo balled up at the bottom of his pack. Charles simply took his shirt off and then twisted his long hair into a knot that he secured with a strip of leather. The braided section with the feather swung free, catching Erik's attention. He forced himself to look away as the other man moved closed.

“Watch,” Charles murmured, unnervingly close to Erik's ear.

Below them, a coyote trotted out of the darkness. It looked about the size Erik would expect, unlike the one that had visited his fire. It headed towards the casino doors but then veered off to investigate the line of black SUVs parked off to one side. When it reached the first one, it began sniffing at the tires.

One of the guards by the doors noticed the animal and called to his partner. The two moved closer, apparently discussing what to do with the creature. Then the coyote lifted one leg and peed on the wheel. One guard shouted at it and both started running. The coyote darted away, keeping to the edge of the lit areas, leading the men on a merry chase. No other guards were in sight.

Charles grinned. “Come, let us find a way in.” As they both stoodup , Erik brushed the dirt from his arms. Then Charles murmured, “Ah, but first...”

Erik saw a blur before the other man was upon him. A hand at the nape of his neck dragged him down and then Charles' lips covered his. Erik was too shocked to react, even as the contact lingered. When the other man's lips parted, Erik's pulse spiked in anticipation. Then Charles bit him.

Erik jerked back with a curse. He raised a hand to find his lip split. His blood was a bright red on Charles' mouth.

“Now you are marked by Coyote,” the man said with a grin. “Let this land bear witness.”

A surge of heat rushed through Erik. It felt like touching a live wire but dissipated a moment later. He touched his lip again and found the cut had scabbed over. Even the pain was muted. He stared at Charles in confusion, but the other man had already turned away. With a few quick steps, he leapt over the edge of their overlook and jogged down the slope. Muttering curses, Erik followed.

The ground was mostly packed earth with a few loose stones. Erik stumbled a few times but made it to the bottom without falling. Charles had seemed to skim across the surface with no trouble. As they closed in on the casino, an eerie howl rose around them, turning into a familiar yipping call. He'd heard it first after the Jeep crashed, then again the night Charles had come to him by the fire. Other voices joined in, seeming to come from all directions at once. Even knowing the source must be on their side, Erik found the sound unnerving.

Two guards came out of the casino to take position by the door. They had their guns out and one noticed Charles, who approached at a run. Before the man could raise his weapon, Erik had ripped it away to smash its owner in the face. He did the same with the other guard, then with a gesture dismantled the weapons. He and Charles came to a stop at the casino entrance.

“What about the other--”

A gunshot interrupted Erik and he reacted on instinct. Hand up, he felt the bullet touch his palm for a half-second before it went flying back at the man who'd fired it. The guard, standing by the SUVs, dropped like a stone. His partner was aiming at Charles, but even as Erik reached for him, something snarled and leapt from the shadows. One coyote latched onto the man's wrist with another took out his throat. The snarling continued as the man thrashed beneath his attackers. Eventually, he grew still.

“Impressive,” Charles said into the silence that followed. He was looking at Erik's hand, still held out to ward off another attack. Erik heard himself panting, his heart racing at how close a call it had been. A moment's hesitation and the bullet would have ruined his plans.

“I didn't think coyotes attacked humans,” he said.

Charles flashed a grin. “Only when the unwelcome come into our territory.”

The coyotes sat beside their kill, watching as if they understood the conversation. Erik thought he saw more eyes gleaming in the darkness and looked away. “Let's get inside.”

He'd expected reinforcements to come running because of the gunshot, but the noise inside the building was almost deafening. Music blared and below that was the constant clicking of slot machines and general chatter between patrons. No one seemed to have noticed what had happened outside, though some people shot them curious looks. Erik guessed they made a strange sight. As he looked around, trying to ward off further attention with a scowl, he realized he hadn't planned to have such a large audience for his final showdown.

“How are we going to find Shaw in all of _this_?” he growled.

“Find a way to clear them out,” Charles replied simply.

Erik looked around for something he could use. It had to be quick, before someone reported their presence and security showed up. There would be no way to blend in in this sea of rich, well-dressed patrons.

He spotted a familiar red switch on a wall a few feet away. It was easy enough to feel for the metal handle and flip the alarm. Immediately, the music cut off and an ear-splitting wail sliced through the air. As people looked around, instinct telling them to flee, Erik gestured towards the door.

“Please head for the nearest exit, calmly and quickly.” He had to shout to be heard over the alarm but it spurred people into motion. Once a few were heading in the right direction, the rest hastened to follow. Erik moved along the wall, deeper into the casino, letting the crowd flow past in the other direction. He glanced back but Charles had vanished.

Metal surrounded him, its presence a comfort to his senses as he stretched to locate any guns in his path. Towards the back of the building, he found a grand staircase decorated with red carpet and golden banisters. It must have led to a VIP area because guards stood at the bottom, ushering people in the right direction. At the back of the back, descending without any sign of concern, was Sebastian Shaw.

Erik's pulse quickened as he stepped out from the rows of machines and tables, heading towards the stairs. The patrons had cleared out, leaving two guards, Shaw, and his two companions. He was currently speaking to the woman who walked beside him, a blond dressed in an outfit so white it was nearly blinding. Behind them walked another man and Erik missed a step as he took in the thick black hair and red skin, a color so bright it couldn't be real.

 _Unless Charles was right. Unless they're like me,_ not _human._

Before Erik could consider that possibility, the guards noticed him.

“Sir, please exit the building and wait outside until we're sure there's no danger,” one said. His partner already had his hand on his gun. Maybe it was the murderous look on Erik's face that alerted him to danger. Erik barely noticed, his attention focused on the man behind them.

“If it isn't little Erik Lehnsherr,” Shaw said with a slow smile, as if greeting an old friend. Hatred rose like a red tide and swallowed Erik whole.

His knife was in his hand as the guards shouted a warning, but then suddenly agony splintered Erik's mind. Daggers of ice drove in, blinding him with pain. Unbidden memories of his childhood resurfaced—the horrific torture he'd been put through, his mother dead on the floor. As it seemed to loop infinitely, he could hear a woman laughing. Erik felt the knife slip from his fingers and fell to his knees beside it. He couldn't force himself pick it up, couldn't reach with his power. All he knew was the pain that was consuming him.

It ceased so abruptly, Erik collapsed. At some point during his nightmare, the fire alarm had switched off and in the silence, a gurgling sound drew his attention.

The woman in white's pristine outfit was now ruined. Blood drenched her chest and she raised shaking hands to the ivory hilt protruding from her throat. Her eyes widened, fear chasing the surprise off her face, and then she dropped to the ground.

Erik looked over his shoulder to see Charles behind him, the other bone blade in his hand. Shaw and the red-skinned man were staring at the dead woman in shock. The two guards seemed torn between the new threat and the victim behind them. One raised his gun but Erik grasped both by the metal they wore and threw them aside. With a clear shot at Shaw, it took only a thought to launch his knife at the other man. Erik's lips curled in anticipation.

But the blade slowed as it reached Shaw. It sunk partway into his chest and then the air around it rippled. Shaw smiled and the knife shot back towards Erik, point-first.

Charles tackled him to the ground, leaving the knife to bounce off something behind them with a clang. A second later he was up and dragging Erik behind one of the poker tables.

“He's like you,” Charles said. “They all are.”

Like him. So they all had powers then. The woman who had crawled inside Erik's head to torture him was neutralized but there was no telling what the red-skinned man could do, and Shaw... Could he control metal somehow? No, Erik had seen the knife sink in just before it was flung back.

“Come, come, Erik,” Shaw said, sounding closer. “Let's not fight. I know you're angry but can't you see that I helped you? Without me, your powers would still be locked behind that wall of fear.”

Erik felt a curtain of rage settle over him at the words. He scrambled to his feet. “You killed my _mother_. You call that _helping_?”

He raised his hands, taking hold of the machines nearest him and flinging them in the direction of Shaw's voice. He got a glimpse of that infuriating smile before, once again, everything came flying back. Erik swatted them aside, ignoring the crashes. His frustration further incensed him and he threw more machines, to the same effect. He reached out with his power, seeking heavier objects, and a hand closed on his arm and dragged him deeper into the maze of machines.

“Erik, stop this.” It was the first time Charles had spoken his name. That and the fingers digging into his bicep momentarily broke through the rage clouding Erik's mind. “He can return anything you throw at him. If you continue on this path, you'll get us both killed. Will that satisfy your thirst for revenge?”

 _So long as Shaw dies too_ , came the immediate thought but Erik bit it back.

Charles let him go. “Your power is useless against him. We need a distraction. Perhaps then something small could slip--”

Before Charles could finish his sentence, a puff of black smoke appeared behind him. The man with red skin appeared, wrapping an arm around Charles' neck. He flashed a wicked smile at Erik and then they were gone.

 _A teleporter?_ Erik stared where they'd been, stunned. He looked around but there was no sign of either man. He couldn't even feel where they'd gone to.

“Where are you hiding, Erik?” Shaw's voice, close again, sent a mix of hatred and panic through him. He flung the nearest metal object towards the man and then dropped as it came flying back. He scrambled to his feet and ran.

Despite what Charles had said, Erik kept sending projectiles at Shaw as they played cat and mouse through the casino. He had no other choice. This was the moment he'd spent years planning for, he couldn't give up now. It didn't help that every word out of Shaw's mouth lit the fuse of Erik's fury, making it harder to think rationally. He tried sneaking around behind the other man, attacking him from the side, using objects of different sizes, but nothing worked.

The fight could only have lasted been minutes, not hours, but the constant use of his power was taking its toll. Erik could feel exhaustion setting in.

  
Shaw, on the other hand, sounded bored. “Why are we fighting? You and I are alike. We should be working together to dominate the humans.” He showed no sign of wearing from whatever he was doing to counter Erik's attacks.

Erik crept around behind Shaw, crouching behind a collection of toppled slot machines as he tried to catch his breath. Without the noise of the casino, his panting felt too loud, but Shaw didn't seem to hear him. He was standing in the center of a circle of destruction, looking around for his prey. Erik glanced up at the ceiling, feeling the steel beams the building was constructed of. Could Shaw deflect an entire building collapsing on him?

Before he could decide whether to test his theory, a yelp of pain split the silence, but it wasn't human. It was canine. Shaw frowned, turning toward the sound and taking a step in that direction. Erik reached out with his power for something, _anything_ small and metal. A glimmer of silver shot through the air, slicing through Shaw's head in less than a second. There was barely time for surprise to register on the other man's face before he fell.

Erik left his cover to stand over the body. The coin he'd used had left a small wound, but blood still pooled beneath Shaw's head. Erik nudged the body with his foot, trying to confirm that it was real. Years of hunting and hating and now Shaw was dead. Charles had been right about the distraction.

“Charles.” Erik spun, remembering the yelp. “Charles?” He stumbled away from Shaw, raising his voice. “Charles!”

The man wore no metal, which made it impossible to track him. Erik tore through the casino, clearing debris from his path with sweeping gestures. He hardly felt the strain of using his power, consumed as he was by the need to find the strange man who had aided him. His chest felt tight but he ignored the feeling and kept searching.

He found Charles at the base of the grand staircase where Shaw had first descended. Blood stained his clothes and darkened the carpet beneath him. His hand covered a wound on his stomach and his skin was alarmingly pale.

The red-skinned teleporter lay face-down further up the stairs. A bone knife was embedded in his back. A wickedly curved blade, stained red, was clutched in one hand. Erik stared at the tail snaking out from under the man's suit coat. More mutant than he'd ever imagined.

When he returned his attention to Charles, he at first thought the man was dead. Then he knelt down and saw the faint rise and fall of his chest. Erik stared at all the blood, at a loss for what to do.

Charles opened his eyes but his gaze was unfocused, fixed on something past Erik's shoulder. “Are you smiling, Little Sister? You were right, after all.” Erik glanced around, expecting to see the blue-skinned woman but there was no one there.

“Can you stand?” he asked. He could get Charles to a hospital. They would know what to do.

Charles chuckled, but the sound was little more than a wheeze. “My part in this tale is done.” He closed his eyes, breathing raggedly.

Looking down at him, Erik felt sick. His nose was clogged with the smell of blood and all of it was spilled because of him. Had that yelp, the distraction that helped Erik, been the fatal blow? This stranger, this...being who was more than a mutant or human, had almost killed Erik attempting to turn him away, and yet he'd sacrificed himself to help Erik succeed.

Charles opened his eyes again, mere slits of blue that focused on Erik. “Your thirst for revenge is quenched?”

“Shaw is dead, yes.” The words felt hollow, meaningless. All those years of planning, Erik had hungered for the freedom he would feel once the deed was done. Sitting amidst the rubble of the fight, with his unlikely ally bleeding out, he wondered if there'd been any point to it.

“Then you have no more cause to be on my lands.”

Erik was too stunned by the words to respond. Then he noticed the slight lift at the corner of the other man's mouth. Charles was joking, even now. A weak laugh escaped Erik, even as his throat tightened. That mischievous smile widened in response.

Charles took another breath and then reached out to clasp Erik's arm. His touch left blood smeared on Erik's skin. “Wind guide you, Man Who Moves Metal.” His grip tightened briefly and then his arm dropped as his eyes closed. A moment later, his chest stopped moving.

Erik stared at the man's face, waiting for the next breath. He couldn't be dead. This was a man with more abilities than Erik could imagine, a man who could slip through darkness without aid, hide the presence of metal from someone it called to, and take the shape of a coyote when it pleased him. How could he die to something so mundane as a knife-wound?

Minutes passed and nothing about the body changed. Erik felt a red tide rising within him, a similar rage to the one that had consumed him at the sight of Shaw. It returned twice as strong now and Erik let it fuel his power as he reached for the metal beams he'd felt before. He pulled and felt their resistance. He grit his teeth and strained harder, feeling sweat break out on his brow.

He was rewarded by a groan all around him. Gradually, he felt the beams begin to give. The ceiling overhead cracked under the strain and bits of plaster began to rain down.

 _One last pull should do it_. He closed his eyes and gripped the beams, taking a deep breath. A high-pitched howl broke his concentration. He was on his feet in an instant but when he looked down, the body at his feet hadn't changed. Hearing the call again, Erik staggered towards the exit.

Outside was chaos. Many of the patrons had fled, but the few who remained were split between screaming and gawking at the bodies of the guards Charles and Erik had killed. Security was trying to calm the crowd while also keep an eye on the casino entrance. When Erik stepped out, he immediately had several guns trained on him. Annoyed by the distraction, he crushed the weapons, all the while searching for the source of the howl. There were no coyotes in sight.

Behind him, the weight of the building gave in to the stress it had been put under and collapsed with a final groan. Dust and bits of rubble blew past him and a ball of fire erupted skyward as one of the flames by the entrance was crushed. That brought on new shrieks from some of the patrons. One of the guards shook off the shock of losing his gun and started to approach Erik.

He fixed the man with an icy look and called one of the SUVs to him. The guard disappeared under the front fender. Erik turned to the wide-eyed watchers.

“Leave,” he said, raising his voice to be heard. “ _Now_.”

The crowd of humans scattered like cast grains. Some fled to their cars. Others just ran, too panicked to think straight. Erik eyed the remaining guards but, having witnessed one of their own crushed beneath an SUV with no driver, they abandoned their posts and chased after the fleeing patrons.

Alone again, Erik turned to look at the crumpled casino. The neon sign had shattered, littering the ground with glass. The other fire framing the entrance still burned, a lonely pyre.

Movement to his right had Erik reaching out for a weapon, but then he realized what it was. Six coyotes padded out of the shadows to stand before him. All watched him with unnerving intensity. Erik looked from coyote to coyote, his chest tight as he searched their eyes in the dim lighting. None were the blue he sought and he turned away feeling hollowed out and exhausted.

Sirens in the distance brought the animals's heads up, their ears perked. As one, they darted away, disappearing into the dark. Erik knew he had to leave as well, unless he wanted to answer questions about the destruction of the casino and the bodies littered within.

Between the fleeing patrons and the security guards, almost all of the vehicles were gone. The SUV he'd used as a sledgehammer remained. Erik climbed in, his movements feeling mechanical, and with an invisible flick, turned the starter switch. A blinding headache was forming behind his eyes with a fresh stab of pain each time he used his power. He'd never extended himself this far.

He hesitated as the engine rumbled. _I could do nothing, just wait to see if I simply drop dead_. As if he'd be so lucky. With his luck, the police would show up before his overexertion claimed him and he was in no condition to hold them off. Besides, the idea of going out into the desert to die held some appeal.

 _It would almost certainly piss_ him _off_ , he thought as he turned the SUV up the slope and climbed back towards the way he'd come. Intruding on his lands and never leaving. It was a grim thought but it kept him going.

He'd left his backpack behind but there was nothing in it to link to him. The only item of value he carried was his knife and that was buried in the rubble. Not that it mattered to him now. Its purpose was served, even if he hadn't been able to stick it in Shaw as he'd imagined for years.

Ignoring the pain in his skull, Erik focused on the ground lit up by the headlights. He would drive until he hit a rock or passed out. It was the only thing he could think to do.


	6. Epilogue

The sun lighting up the horizon told Erik he'd been traveling for a while. In the dark, he'd only been concerned with the few feet in front of the SUV, but as he looked around, he had no idea where he was. He was exhausted to the point of hallucination, seeing flashes of black in his vision that disappeared whenever he tried to focus on them. Rubbing his eyes didn't help. 

The pounding in his head had lessened but the throb behind his eyes told him he was still far from recovered. The cut on his lip had begun to ache as well. Erik tried to ignore both. He wondered irritably why he hadn't passed out yet. Grim determination, once a useful ally early in his life, seemed a torment now. He could stop to rest, but instinct told him to seek shelter, first. 

Something darted through the headlight beams and Erik slammed on the breaks, jerking the wheel to the side. He had a flash of deja vu as the vehicle skidded to a stop, but no rocks tore up the SUV this time. He stared out the windshield at the desert, his hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. Then he remembered what he'd seen. 

In a flash, he was out of the car, looking for the coyote he was certain had dashed by. There was no animal in sight, despite a lack of cover to hide behind. 

_I know what I saw_ , he thought, but on the heels of that came a voice that whispered, _**If** you even saw it._

Erik stalked back to where the brakes had first locked up. The tires tracks were easy to see but he had to peer closer to spot the paw prints. His heart flipped as he searched the ground. Seeing one made it easy to find the others. Canine prints, larger than an average coyote. He looked around, but there was no sign of the creature he'd swerved to miss. 

It wasn't possible, his brain told him, but this trip had been filled with impossible feats. Erik waited for several minutes, unwilling to give a name to the feeling in his chest. The desert lightened but still nothing crept out to see him. Eventually, he gave up and went back to the vehicle. 

A man sat in the passenger seat. Flushed, bronze skin shining with perspiration, Charles was completely, unabashedly naked. Caught in the act of climbing into the vehicle, Erik fell into his seat out of shock. His gaze drifted down the other man's body before snapping up to meet those bright blue eyes. A hint of a smirk curled Charles' lips. 

“You died,” Erik said, his voice hoarse. “I _saw_ you die.”

Charles shrugged. “It was not my first death, though I suspect I will not be so lucky again.” 

Erik glanced down again, looking for the wound that had been so gruesome in the casino. The skin on the other man's stomach was pale and puckered, as if the wound had healed years ago. The rest of him was free of blemishes or marks, but there were tension lines around his eyes. Whatever it had taken to come back, it hadn't been easy. 

Erik couldn't make his mind accept what he was seeing. Part of him suspected he was hallucinating, or even asleep, even if his racing heart made it feel real. 

Charles raised his hand, turning it over as he looked at it. “I am but a shadow of myself now. Coyote without his tricks.” He glanced out the window and his voice dropped. “Little Sister, you must be laughing somewhere.” 

Erik grabbed the other man's wrist, half-expecting it would vanish in his grip. Instead, his fingers closed on warm, very _real_ skin. Charles head whipped around, bright eyes locked onto Erik. Something wild lurked in those blue irises. Erik let go and continued staring at the other man. 

“That was you, just now?” 

With a blink, the half-grin returned. “I still have one or two things left in my bag. I thought that might get your attention.”

A million questions came to Erik's mind but the first that tumbled out was, “Where are your clothes?”

“Do you not care for the view?” Charles laughed when Erik flushed and looked away. “Unfortunately, this is one trick that is lost to me.” He twisted to look in the SUV's backseat, giving Erik a glimpse of a well-muscled back and butt. “No clothes back there.” Charles settled back in his seat and Erik focused his gaze forward. 

“What will you do now?”

The question caught Erik off-guard, almost as much as the sight of Charles had. He had no answer. He'd never thought past his vengeance, never planned for an afterward. The wheel creaked in his grip and he forced himself to relax. The surrounding desert offered no help. 

“I have no idea.” He glanced to his side, keeping his gaze high, and saw Charles grinning again. 

“There are others like you. You know that now. Have you thought of finding them?”

“To what end?”

Charles lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “There is strength in knowing you are not alone.” 

“What about you?” 

Charles bared his teeth in a smile. “You have proven to be very interesting, Man Who Moves Metal. I wonder what what trouble you will get into next.” 

Erik found himself grinning in response. “Let's find out.”


End file.
